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May 28, 2021 | Poetry

Letter 

Corinne Leong

Anything I speak, I know to speak a second time: My brother 
is dying. My brother is dying. You are not my sister 

tearing through an Italian restaurant, blistering
with what I have given her

Letter  photo
Chicken Little photo

May 27, 2021 | Poetry

Chicken Little

Shaw Patton

more intimate with the fit of a Gildan 
shirt versus this thing hovering some 
distance over my head always threatening 
grey blonde grey depending on mood
secrets held in pinprick dots

Why the Smell of Coffee Makes You Retch photo

May 27, 2021 | Nonfiction

Why the Smell of Coffee Makes You Retch

Fiona McPhillips

Because you are ten, pink skin streaked with freckles and sunscreen, sea salt on your lips as you run your tongue around your ice-cream, and a man with a grey wire moustache puts his hand on your leg and asks your mum when he can marry you, and the sand of his handprint sticks to your skin no matter how hard and raw you scrub it.

Dynasty photo

May 26, 2021 | Poetry

Dynasty

Emma Miao

After the announcement & its sunder, 
              I flood the afternoon light into knots. 

Pocket a maiden name, banter into twilight & 
              its constituents. Mend the